Before the Color Red
by ScalpelUser
Summary: Once a carefree youth a lot had changed in William T. Spears' death. He never expected to tell the story, never expected to have anyone who cared to hear it. Grell Sutcliff asked and listened intently as the tale unfolded.
1. Introduction

It was his favorite time. He would not admit it to the redhead that clung so tightly to his arm. No; it just would not be like him. Secret or not it did not stop the shinigami from smiling contently as he flipped to a new page of the paper in his hands; doing his best to not disturb the one curled up against him.

"Will~?" he had failed.

"Hmm?"

"You said there was another…Before me."

Pausing at the start of 'Alternative Uses for your Scythe: Legal or Not?', William frowned. That was _not_ what he had expected to come from Grell's mouth; and far from what he would ever wish to hear. No. He preferred it when the man stuck to moans, groans, and the occasional compliment; otherwise he was usually far too loud for his taste. Why he even wished to bring up the issue was beyond him.

"Do I dare ask why the sudden conversation?" he turned the page again, trying to distract himself.

"Because you _never_ talk about yourself Will. And I want to know!"

"Absolutely not. I am not going to give you someone's name to add to your little red list-"

"It isn't that little…" Wilting under his lovers stern gaze Grell peeled himself away from his arm, sitting straight and crossing his arms, staring at the wall opposite that crackled with the warmth of a fireplace.

"My point exactly." Calm, silence, perhaps he had given-"

"But Wiiiill~!"

"Sutcliff, stop it this instant!" the paper was folded up and tossed aside, the shinigami's full attention going to the redhead next to him. He was unaware that had been the man's intention all along, "It is none of your business."

"But I want to know…" facing William again Grell leaned over, a pout crossing his carefully painted lips, bright green eyes watering up with fake tears. An expression meant for a woman, the kind who knew exactly what they wanted and how to get it by swaying the hearts of men. William wished he could say he was immune; that the trick had been pulled enough times it no longer affected him. However, as a moment turned to a minute his shoulders relaxed and his frown diminished. He no more wanted to talk about it than he had before, but once Grell pulled 'the look' the only thing that could be done was give in. He would have a lonely night otherwise.

"You couldn't hurt him anyhow…" A sigh was caught in William's voice as he relaxed back into his seat. His partner moved with him, crawling forward and turning onto his back so that he could lie in the man's lap.

"Oooh, a strong man? I like that." a cat-like grin crossed Grell's features as he got comfortable, playing with William's tie as he watched him.

"Are you going to listen or are you going to comment?" A brow flicked upwards and the redhead giggled under his superior's displeased expression. He made a quick turn of his thumb and forefinger in the corner of his mouth, zipping up his lips and watching expectantly. When William didn't immediately begin the zipper was broken.

"Weeeell~?

Silence.

"It was Undertaker."


	2. Chapter 1

_My family was not rich, but they devoted what they could to my schooling. They wanted something better for me than the small farm I grew up on. I never understood why. Germany was my home, it was not always kind, still, I felt the most comfort there…But they were my parents and they worked hard for me, I couldn't let them down. Mathematics was what suited me best and my parents claimed that I would succeed in the business world; certain I would do them proud. Again I could not refuse them. I turned toward the study of the banking system as it fit well with my mind and saved money to do the one thing I never wanted, leave home. _

_I was twenty-five when I first moved to London…I was twenty-eight when I died._

"Spears!"

"Y-yes sir!?" Looking over the already chin high stack of files he was carrying William's eyes bulged as another was added atop.

"Get that up to accounting this instant Spears."

"Yes! Of course."

Arms straining under the added weight the man had to tip his head to the side to see around the mess. Already the one that had dropped the increased work load on him was leaving; adjusting his professionally tailored suit, subconsciously straightening his hair, standing tall and proud as he moved about the mess of workers that made the bank run. Everything seemed to create a path for him… Desks piled high with papers, scales with funds to be weighed, interns and tellers alike moved out of his way… Why couldn't he be like that? Sighing at his thoughts, he knew the answer after all, William turned away. Further into the mess of paper pushers and files until he was needed again.

He had been with the company for three years and continued to find himself as nothing more than a pack mule. It was not a surprise to William, really, he should be grateful. He had hardly managed to get a job as a teller when he first arrived, to be working behind the scenes as a foreigner, he should be happy.

Groaning, he set the stack of papers down on his desk and began to sort out what path he had to take. What had to go where, what did he personally have to take care of, what was the most important, and what was the fastest way to get it all done? He prided himself on being as efficient as possible in an attempt to gain the same recognition other men gained by birth or favor. As of yet it did him little-

"Hmm?"

A frown crossed William's features as he caught sight of a half-inch thick file on the edge of his desk. Not that having such a thing in and of itself was strange but he hadn't put it there. Pushing his glasses back into place he moved to the intruder, cautious, as one could never tell what work might be dropped upon them. However, his current mystery had come with an explanation in the form of a hastily scribbled message on top.

_Get this done William, I haven't the time to bother with it._

_You know the procedures, keep the cost to a minimum and_

_get the issue out of the office fast. It's routine, you can _

_manage it._

_C. Arrington_

It was an embarrassment to William how long it took him to realize just what he had been given. He had to read the note twice, browse the folder, pinch himself. It was an account. Small, yes. Nothing that any proper manager would put their energy into, but for William it was a chance. It was still early in the day, he had plenty of time to go over the numbers, get the proper forms filled out, have the business account open that evening and-

"Spears!? I needed that monthly report five minutes ago!"

Looking up from his hopes with wide eyes and red cheeks the businessman-to-be stared out over the suddenly silent sea of faces. The one that had yelled at him dressed in the same expensive suit as all the others he served and had earned a tinge of color to his own features as he yelled.

"Yes sir, coming!" stashing his own file away he grabbed another in its stead before making the quick jog to his superior. That was right. People in the office were counting on him, he could not just start his own work…But his parents were counting on him to…That night then, it would be quiet, he could do the work fast enough and it would be worth it to see the stunned expression on Mr. Arrington's features when he was presented with a completed file so fast. Yes, that was right. His parents' goal could become a reality if only he played his cards right.

* * *

He wouldn't call it creepy per se… No…No that would sum it up completely William decided. As one person after another left at the end of the work day the rooms got darker, quieter, threatening almost. He had worked within the offices long enough to know how much valuable information was stored away, where the keys to the safe were, how to get into the lock boxes. While he had no intention of making use of any of his knowledge it felt as if just by being there at such an hour he was doing something wrong. But the work had to get done.

William took up humming old tunes to himself and lighting candles where needed to make himself feel less alone. In time all he could think of was the joy that the next day would bring. His mind took him on wild trips; everything from receiving an instant promotion, to funding the next big business, to being able to go overseas to work. As the hour grew later his dreams became wilder and more paperwork was completed.

Midnight had come and gone and while William's determination had yet to fall apart his body had. There was nothing to eat or drink within the offices and despite the fall weather the rooms grew hot. Another page finished and William's worn blue jacket came off. His signature applied to another line and his tie was loosened. The clock struck three and he wiped sweat from his brow.

"Done…" Stretching his hands up above his head the hopeful businessman snapped his spine back into place. There were sounds outside, footsteps? Voices? Covering a yawn William finally stood and picked the completed file up, all he needed to do was apply the proper seals in the morning and it was ready.

Shivering with ill contained excitement the man moved to the door of his office, pausing halfway there. Stepping back. Moving forward again. Creaking? The building was old, yes, but it was well kept and he could never recall it creaking before. Once more the man stepped back, rising on the balls of his feet and back down with a thoughtful expression. _Creak…Creak…Creak creak._ Chuckling to himself as he got a bit carried away William wiped more sweat from his face and stepped back towards the door _creak_ he really did need to get some slee-

The floor cracked and with a rumble like an oncoming carriage the wood beneath William tore free from its foundations. Fragments of wood, pages falling, flames reaching to new heights, he found himself hanging on the edge of hell. Glasses slipping down his nose William stared into what had been the entrance hall to the office building, now nothing but a pit of fire. Yells were what he heard outside, screams for help, it was all suddenly covered up by the roar of flames.

William's first instinct was to cry out for someone. He could feel flames licking at his heels, warming the bottom of his shoes, igniting his suit. Pain, so much pain and he couldn't scream. The fire ate up the oxygen he so desperately needed leaving the man's throat exposed to heat and soot. Tears stung William's eyes as he looked up to the scorched wood he held on to, someone had to be there, anyone. What remained of the file was released into the inferno below to give him another hand to grip with. For whatever good it did… He was dying. Even if he managed to hold on he would pass out and drop into the fire…Even if he managed to stay conscious the flames were finding more of his clothes to use as fuel. The pain was terrible and yet he couldn't let go. William heard his skin crackle and split under the heat's wrath, could feel his chest tighten, each moment worse than the last, but at least it was a moment more of life.

And someone was laughing.

"Need a hand?"

Forcing his eyes to focus the man did not understand what he was seeing; a vertical line of silver so close to his face, a skull facing down to the room below, a figure holding the strange device towards him.

"Weeeeell?" More laughter.

William was a part of the fire himself. Saw the flames curl up his sleeves and threaten his tie and the flesh peel away from his body. He was dead, he knew it, and yet he grabbed on. He held onto the arches of silver that made up the skull's ribcage and held on tight, letting himself be pulled out of the blaze and back onto the creaky floor boards that had started all his trouble.

Shivering under a new inhuman chill that surrounded his savior William did not know what to make of his position. The fire was still ravaging the building yet few sounds of its destruction reached him, he still felt the agony of being burned though the flames on his clothes had been snuffed, and the strange man was still there.

Trying to catch his breath and figure out what was going on William had little luck on both tasks. He knew that the fire had no hold over him, but all his lungs could grasp was ash.

"This won't do at all."

William focused on the silver and gold that flashed at the end of the weapon…Weapon…A scythe? Death? So he was dead...

"Yes, aaaand no."

Hmm?

"Just a moment."

William's mind generated pain but there was none as the weapon's blade was suddenly pushed forward and through him. No blood spilled forth, no bones cracked, what happened was oddly beautiful, even while it left the young businessman with a feeling of dread.

Slumping to the ground as the man pulled the scythe away in a downward arc William stared at the golden reels that spilled forth from the gash in his chest. In vivid detail he could see the day he broke his arm, the first time he had gone to school, his parents wishing him goodbye a few years in the past…The fire as it climbed up his sleeves. But the pain was gone.

Breathing freely William brought a hand to his forehead to push locks of sweat stained hair out of the way. Taking in large gulps of the wonderfully fresh air he stared at his hands through heat warped glasses, shocked at the twisted scars that remained.

"Such a pity I didn't get here sooner; a carriage flipped near Main Street." Death sighed, "But I suppose it is better than if I had come after you fell, yes? You would have been in a terrible state by that point." That laughter again.

The scythe was gone and the man stepped closer, silver hair spilling over his shoulders and picking up soot from the floor as he leaned over William. Staring up and straining to see William had no idea what to make of the one studying him, so he studied in return; taking in the grin-like smirk, the golden eyes, and the obvious pride at his accomplishment.

"No no, you're not dead. Consider yourself born again." Sighing contently the man stood tall again, one hand at his chest and the other adjusting his glasses, "And I'm such a proud father. To have found someone like you, you'll make a fine addition William."

"A-addition? To what!? Who are you?" The man suddenly leaned down again causing William to squish himself further into the wall he rested against. The man's expression had suddenly become serious and the recently deceased didn't know if that was good or not.

"I am a bringer of death, a ferrier of souls, a messenger from the other side…" Taking a hold of William's hand he hauled the stunned businessman back to his feet, "Undertaker will be fine." The grin returned, "I think this will be a wonderful beginning for you William."


	3. Chapter 2

A smaller chapter this time, had it for awhile and hit a little roadblock, so I decided to simply break it into two and make sure you all knew that I was still alive and well. Enjoy!

* * *

_We did not leave the world of the living; perhaps he did not believe that I would follow through with his plans. He gave me new clothes, stolen I believe, and began to lead me through the streets as if he owned them. I did not understand what Undertaker wanted from me. I was told that my life before did not matter, that my history had died and all that remained was body and mind. Somehow, I do not think he ever expected me to believe that. _

_Death Gods: court, judge, and jury to the souls of the deceased. I had no right to decide a person's afterlife. I was just a man… He laughed at me. _

"This, is a soul." The glittering orb did not float or flutter about. Once Undertaker held out his hand the grapefruit sized being buried itself against his palm as if seeking warmth. William was not paying attention to it.

Instead his focus was on the soggy burlap sack shoved against the side of the alley they stood within. The spring night was warm, but he found himself shivering as he stared at the remains of a life.

"William."

Why would someone do such a thing? Did this have to be the way that the strange man showed him? The scent of copper and bodily fluids caused his head to swim, yet he was too stubborn to cover his nose.

"William!"

Snapping his newly golden eyes up to Undertaker, William stood with a dumbfounded expression on his features.

"Please, do pay attention…" The shinigami's smile never faded, but it could be seen fluctuating from the Cheshire grin that meant complete satisfaction to the more subdued and almost tight smile that was currently set on his features, "Souls in this state are very fragile. It will not need a sending, instead it will move to the next realm on its own in time." His smile shrunk further.

William couldn't help himself. Arms wrapping about his waist he looked to the darkened door that had likely been the child's exit to the uncaring alleyway.

"It is only flesh." Again he looked up to Undertaker. William was unable to ignore the man any longer in the midst of his distaste for the situation; not with the serious expression that was on his features. But before he could object the shinigami continued, "I am not saying that it is right. You will deal in death William, but that does not make life any less important. However, for all the power we have we cannot decide who lives and who dies, we can only accept those who are on our list and ease their suffering so they might pass on."

"But-"

"I chose a small life so that you might see the soul and the soul alone." Stepping forward Undertaker wrapped long fingers about William's wrist, forcing one of his hands to come towards him. He gently deposited the shivering soul into his palm, "_This_ is what you're responsible for William. This is the essence of all life. This is what the world depends on to survive. Pretty amazing, yes?" his grin returned.

Dropping his gaze to the glowing orb within his hand William's eyes widened and he gasped, knees bending slightly and other hand coming out as the sphere almost fell off. He could hear Undertaker chuckle as he watched. It was…Beautiful, that couldn't be denied. Relaxing once he was assured that the being wasn't going to fall he was able to appreciate what he held. Life. No other word could describe the warmth that came from the miniscule sphere. The sensation of hope and infinite possibilities contained within the light and flickering colors. He wanted to hold it forever, to protect it from the world that had tossed it away; such a thing should not be harmed…

"As I said, it does pass on, on its own." Glancing upwards as Undertaker's hand came into view William was a moment from snatching the soul away and not letting his guardian near it. He restrained himself, instead watching as the shinigami's hand smoothed over the air around the fetus' soul. The man hummed contently to himself before pushing down, causing William to flinch as something cracked and the protective encasement he had unknowingly placed about the soul vanished. And it was gone.

The orb left so quickly he wondered if it had ever been there.


	4. Chapter 3

I wanted to give a quick apology to everyone for how long posting has taken me. I could rattle off excuses one after the other, but instead I will assure you that I've come upon some free time and inspiration. Inspiration that I want to thank a few recent watchers and favorites that reminded me of how much I enjoy my ideas and want to continue with them. And a big thank you to everyone for waiting, again, I'm sorry and enjoy!

* * *

_I could not deny that I was uncomfortable with my new place in death. I wanted to know why I was not to pass on to the infinite void with others, why Undertaker had decided that my fate was worth changing; why me? But I could not deny the fact that I was honored. From the moment that Undertaker deposited that soul into my hand I knew that I could not turn away from the gift he had given me. I was terrified, yes. But I would do my job and I would do it well. _

"Fits like a glove!"

William had to admit, he agreed. Stepping out of the small changing booth and back into the silent storage room he could not stop looking at the fresh suit he wore. It was simple and a testament to his new job; black jacket, black slacks, black shoes and a black tie. And it was _his._ As far as the late Mr. Spears was concerned it was far better than anything he had ever seen his superiors wear…Previous superiors. Though he decided the belief could still apply as he glanced back to Undertaker; finding his own suit far more appealing than the strange duster the man covered his own with.

"Now, this is the standard uniform for those who work in the field." William did not know where Undertaker's scythe had vanished to, but he was glad that it was nowhere near him as his guide took it upon himself to adjust the collar of his shirt, "If you do well you can pick and chose a bit, these things can be so…Downright disgusting after awhile. But I do admit it makes you look very pretty William."

"W-what!" Staring at the shinigami with more shock than he had managed for awhile William had no idea what to make of the statement or Undertaker's lack of concern that he had made it. He seemed perfectly content to continue to fiddle with his new charge's collar.

"Brave, gallant; good traits for a Death god. I must say I do make good choices." The man's smile fell as William stepped away, smoothing his collar back into place from the flipped up position Undertaker seemed fond of.

"That is not- Pretty is- And I am not-"

"And here I thought your English was better." Sighing dramatically and wandering away he began to search through the expanse of shelves that surrounded them. Shirts, pants, boxes, bags and most of it covered in a thin layer of dust liable to be older than Undertaker himself, "Because my German is _terrible_. But I suppose we can help you grasp the language as our lessons go on."

"I speak English fine!" Trailing after the excitable man William had a difficult time deciding between arguing his lack of beauty in the suit and questioning the piles of belongings around them. They couldn't all be Undertaker's, could they? For one who was supposed to be Death it was not unimaginable to assume that many things would be gathered through the years, but nothing in the organized racks seemed to quite fit his teacher's apparent…Tastes.

"These too." Focusing on Undertaker in time to see a fresh set of gloves get tossed his way William bent at the knees to capture them before they fell to the ground. Gloves too? He couldn't say that he was fond of the thought, but after a moment of reflecting on the fine leather he held he realized why the shinigami had assumed it was such a good idea. The pain was gone, but the scars remained and it made William wince to see the twisted flesh of his hands. Slipping on the accessory with a tiny smile he started to thank Undertaker for chucking them at him when he realized that he had vanished.

"Ah…?" Frowning and glancing about William held completely still for fear of disturbing any of the items stacked around him. He had just been…How did he do that! "Sir?" turning around with a tense spine the newly appointed shinigami was both relieved and disappointed to find that he was not behind him, "Where in the world…?"

"It isn't quite the 'world' as you know it."

Giving off a sound that could only be properly described as a yelp William whipped around to face the shinigami and his Cheshire grin, "No need to look so nervous; not going to kill you or anything." Laughing Undertaker held out the item that he had whisked himself away to retrieve.

The scythe was not glamorous. In fact, it was downright ugly in William's opinion. The weapon had likely been sitting beneath a leak given the rust that formed patches on the dull metal. It was sharp, he would give it that, the blade was the only part of the item that glinted and had any relation to Undertaker's scythe. He almost did not wish to touch it for fear of marring his new suit and gloves, but the man was obviously waiting for William to do so. Restraining a sigh he took a hold of the weapon in both hands, relieved to find that it was not overly heavy at least.

"It's-ah- Thanks." The man felt his cheeks heat as Undertaker laughed.

"They all start out fairly bland, can't do anything about that. But as your powers grow and the scythe gets a sense of who you are it will change…Usually into gardening tools…We still can't work that kink out. See?" Glancing back down to the weapon he held away from his body William nearly dropped it. The scythe was as dull as ever, but the rust was gone leaving it a single shade of gray, "Orderly and uniform like you are."

"Or boring."

"Aaaah, you do have a sense of humor!" William felt a chill down his spine as Undertaker let out a peal of laughter, "But be careful, upsetting them is a bad idea. The scythes are a bit-" Still holding on to the weapon the new shinigami was suddenly dragged towards the ground as the weight of the scythe increased to staggering levels, "-temperamental." He began to laugh again.

Wincing as he struggled to get his hands out from beneath the metal William began to wonder if his arms could still be removed from their sockets. There had to be some benefits to being dead, right? A sudden immunity to pain wasn't granted and the businessman felt his fingers start to grow numb.

"Once you remove yourself Ron is waiting for you in the hallway."

"Wai-What?" William did the best he could to turn his head and follow his savior's path to the door behind him, "You're just leaving me here!"

"I'm a busy man Will and I left you a guide. Ron will get you settled and I'll meet up with you in a little bit; Death never sleeps." Undertaker dismissed himself and left the trapped shinigami gaping with ill-contained disbelief.


End file.
